As a regular visitor to Texas, I often extol its culture, which goes beyond cowboys and Tex-Mex. The second-largest state in the U.S. (bigger than any European country) is vast and varied on both culinary and cultural fronts. The winter climate is temperate, ranging from the high teens to mid-20s in winter and early spring. Who needs Florida, anyway?

That boast is how I recently found myself on a weeklong road trip with my  Canadian parents, Ian and Terri Atkinson, in the Lone Star state. Ever since a job transfer, they’ve lived near Houston, off and on for 25 years, but are here for good now that my father’s semi-retired. We’re very close and time together is always in short supply. We’re on trend: The pandemic has reminded everyone of this most precious commodity and multi-generational travel is on the rise as a way to spend meaningful time sharing new experiences.

I visit often from Toronto, but the idea this week is to skip our usual day-tripping (and the vaunted barbecue and country music scene of nearby Austin) and look farther afield. I’ve plotted a triangular itinerary to San Antonio, Fredericksburg and Houston around gastronomy and culture, our shared grown-up interests. This, while also taking into account their pace (leisurely) and hotel preferences (central) for a quick drive or easy walk back to relax between excursions. When travelling alone, I can easily hit two to three museums and galleries in a day, but in the interest of sociability, I have built in plenty of downtime for my fit but aging parents, who are in their early 70s. Planning meals is also crucial because, in addition to a shared cultural curiosity, we are food people. Whenever any of us is enjoying a good dish, we text photos with evocative descriptions to one another. When dining together, bites and forks fly around the table accompanied by analysis, commentary, reminiscences of past memorable meals and, inevitably, plans for the next one.

Nathalie and her parents at Becker Vineyards after a tasting. Photo: Courtesy of the author

Are we there yet?

In a role reversal, I’m the one who’s packed snacks for when we get bored and peckish. I needn’t have worried: Our first port of call is Buc-ee’s. The Texas rest-stop chain’s general store is a tourist attraction in itself, with a dozen varieties of fresh beef jerky at the 10-metre deli counter; we settle on teriyaki and bags of their signature fresh-fried chips. With my father behind the wheel (some things never change), the three of us set off on the easy interstate drive from Houston to San Antonio. My younger sister isn’t with us, so in lieu of playing “I Spy” (or bickering), my job is navigating GPS for decent coffee bars (as I often tease her, my mother’s daily cappuccino is non-negotiable).

Once in San Antonio, it’s easy to remember the Alamo. The name is everywhere and our airy former C-suites at Hotel Gibbs, a converted turn-of-the-century office building, overlook the original Spanish mission plaza – a national historic landmark that is the site of the 1836 battle during the Texas Revolution. After unpacking, we amble over to the River Walk, the state’s other top tourist attraction. The scenic winding walkways and footbridges along the banks of the river that runs through downtown have been expanded and are clustered with many more bars, hotels and live-ly restaurants than our last visit 20 years ago. 

As we discuss the exhibitions that struck us most at the Briscoe Western Art Museum that afternoon, Dad and I nearly drown in the enormous margaritas at Mi Tierra, a traditional Mexican mariachi restaurant festooned with Christmas tinsel and decor year-round. After dinner, we join the crowd seated in the plaza watching The Saga – an artist’s visual interpretation of the area’s history that’s set to music and projected nightly against the façade of the country’s oldest cathedral. My mother is transfixed by the in-credible visual narrative.

The next day, Mom’s cappuccino is from La Panaderia, an artisanal bakery with a cult following that draws influence from Mexican and French traditions for pastries like concha, a sweet coffee bun made of soft brioche dough. The morning is spent exploring the Pearl District, an arts, culture and entertainment compound redeveloped from its industrial past as a brewery, anchored by the luxury Hotel Emma, in the 1894 former brewhouse building. Besides the Pearl’s culinary focus, retail stores spotlight local makers and women-owned boutiques. We browse the well-stocked indie bookshop, comparing notes on our other shared affinity – mystery novels – and vow to return to check out the renovated 1,000-seat Stable Hall concert venue, set to open mid-winter.

The Mariachi bar at San Antonia’s Mi Terra. Photo: Courtesy of the author

Being avid gardeners (them, not me) makes the San Antonio Botanical Garden an essential stop, fortified first by the garden-driven fare (and signature peach Bellini) at San Antonio celebrity chef Jason Dady’s Jardin bistro on the grounds. It’s a weekday, so we have the native plant pavilions of palm, cycad and desert succulents mostly to ourselves. We make a point of visiting the Alamo, in part to see the extensive collection Phil Collins has donated. (The British rock star is one of the world’s foremost collectors of Alamo and Texana artifacts – who knew?)

Rosé All Day

Fredericksburg is in Texas Hill Country, which is also Texas Wine Country. Yes, really: Depending on the year, Texas is the third- or fourth-largest wine-producing state in the U.S. My parents, oenophiles who regularly tour European wine regions, had no idea this was in their backyard. We get schooled over a tour at Becker Vineyards, an Old World-style winery that’s one of the earliest in the state. The tasting is, shall we say, thorough and we stumble from the elegant cellar into daylight laden with cases of wine, dazed and happy like an outtake from Sideways.

A private shuttle takes us along the 290 – local vernacular for the wine-corridor highway – that’s a case study in generational contrasts. Where Becker is a stately classic winery, Signor Vineyards is all crisp whitewashed decor, complete with a gleaming vintage chrome Airstream trailer that dispenses wine slushies. It’s millennial Instagram catnip, literally. With proximity to booming San Antonio and Austin (each around an hour’s drive) and a focus on outdoor activities, the pastoral town of 10,000 flourished with the younger set as a destination during the pandemic. We share a charcuterie board (and sip a few more glasses) in the welcome shade of the property’s majestic live oak trees before heading back to historic Main Street, where sidewalk consumption is permitted and you can nurse a drink while wandering store to store.

After all the wine and walking, my folks chill out on their suite’s cute covered porch while I meander to the Pioneer Museum. I report back over dinner how the German immigrants who settled the area in 1846 gave the town both its name and flavour. My parents are usually avid ramblers and spent weeks walking Spain’s Camino de Santiago a few years ago. But, at the moment, there are only three good knees among us. That’s why we opted for the Trueheart Hotel’s ground-level suites (i.e., no stairs) a block from the main drag. (The cottage-style boutique inn’s breakfast picnic baskets of flaky, fresh from-the-oven, buttermilk biscuits were admittedly a draw.)

Built in 1731, San Antonio’s Mission Concepcion is the oldest unrestored stone church in America. Photo: ivanastar/Getty Images

My good knees are why I find myself walking off the meal alone the next morning at the Enchanted Rock State Natural Area, a popular hiking spot north of town. It’s the  largest single rock formation in North America – the pink granite mountain dome is visible for miles around – basically the Ayers Rock of Texas, as the park superintendent explains on my guided tour. As an internationally renowned dark sky park in the path of totality, it’s garnering extra attention for April’s upcoming total solar eclipse.

Doing the summit takes about 2.5 hours round trip, but he points out an easier, shorter trail popular with multi-generational visitors: grandparents and small children often stick to it while the rest gamely summit, so that every family member can enjoy the Enchanted Rock experience.

Optimal enjoyment of the great outdoors is another reason for Canadian snowbirds to  visit Texas in winter. Speaking of birds: Texas Hill Country is home to about 300 species. On the way in, I picked up the park office’s free field checklist (helpfully organized by season) and, thanks to Merlin –the Cornell Ornithology Lab’s bird song identifier app – I am able, two hours later, to check off the Ladder-backed woodpeckers, Carolina chickadees and Black-crested titmice that reside in the park in winter (and a slew of wintering sparrows). Spring visitors get to catch the hawk migration up on the summit.